Living for the Dead
by theshadowlight
Summary: The group leaves the prison behind after two months of anxiously waiting for The Governor to retaliate. After finding a new temporary home, they meet a new girl who could be a valuable addition to the group. What will happen to our favorite band of survivors in this continuation after season 3? Rated M to be safe, but basically for violence and language, and my attempts at "gore."
1. Chapter 1

**Soooo...**

**This is my first fan-fic. Ever.**

**Yup.**

**So, you know, don't have the highest of expectations.**

**Rated M for gore, language, violence, blah blah blah... actually, mostly it's rated M to be safe, not really sure. Things will probably get more in that scale later on.**

**I apologize in advance for grammar, reviews are great, flames encouraged, and hopefully, you will enjoy.**

**I don't own The Walking Dead, (obviously), and any OCs and the plot are my own.**

The girl looked up.

"Oh, shit."

The whole cafeteria was filled with walkers. They all looked up at the sound of the door scraping the dirty floor, and some stood up abruptly at the sight of her.

She turned and ran back out of the door, running through the courtyard as she heard the crashing of tables and chairs being knocked out of the way and stumbled over by the walkers. Surely, she was their first meal in a few weeks, at least, judging by the clean but gnawed on bones that were littered in the cafeteria.

She rounded the corner and saw a chain link fence, about ten feet tall, stretching off to the right into the gloom of the evening. Behind the fence was an open field of waist-high grass. Beyond the grass she could clearly see the line of trees and dense undergrowth, stretching on into a forest. If she could get over the fence, she could take refuge in the trees. She put on a burst of speed, and jumped, clinging on to the fence as it swung from her leap. She climbed frantically, the moans of the lunchroom walkers growing louder as the first few rounded the corner.

A rustling in the grass below her made her look down as she climbed, and she internally groaned. Decayed, bloody hands were reaching up out of the grass as more walkers rose out from the grass, chunks of flesh torn off and yellowed-eyes bloodshot. Dust shook off of them and filled the air, and the girl coughed, crawling faster than before.

"Double shit."

She swung her left leg over the top of the fence and looked around. To her left, more of the dead were rising from her previous escape route, shuffling forward and hissing. To her right, the cafeteria walkers were crowding around the corner, re-energized by the sight of their prey. Behind her the hospital wall rose up, to tall for her to climb. In front of her, the chain-link fence went on for about a hundred more yards until it turned right and continued back to encircle the hospital. Right on the first section after the corner, one of the fences had caved, so the cafeteria walkers could get out if they wanted to. Her best option right now, she realized, was to crawl as quickly as possible along the top of the fence, jumping down and running into the dense forest to take refuge in the trees. Sure, all the walkers would follow her, but if she landed right, she could get a head start. Plus, last she checked, the walkers couldn't climb trees. If she got trapped in a tree, though... but she would think about that when she got there.

Suddenly, the walkers from the cafeteria slammed into the fence, and she held on for dear life as it swayed alarmingly. Panicked, she started scuttling forward, her backpack leaning to the left, her knife slipping out of its holster, and her bat sliding out of its sling. She stopped, gripping the fence as well as she could with her legs, and quickly snapped the cover over the knife handle, securing it in its holster, and tightened the ropes on her baseball bat, slinging it diagonally across her backpack.

The walkers on both sides rammed into the fence again, and she held on tight, hoping her jeans wouldn't rip as she scooted forward.

She had almost made it to the end when something grabbed her leg. One of the tallest walkers she had ever seen, maybe about 6'8", had risen from the field and snagged her foot. She tugged but it pulled her down with surprising strength, and she slipped, sliding towards its rotting mouth. She whipped the bat out from its holder and snapped it across his skull with a wicked flick. Its head caved in on one side and its rotted brains exploded out of its skull. Bits of dark blood and cartilage flew onto her jeans, and it dropped down, its fingers still caught on her shoe. There was no holding on this time with its deadweight pulling her down, and she crashed to the ground, landing hard on the smashed walker.

She cried out when she landed on her left ankle wrong, but stood up quickly. The cafeteria walkers were level with her on the other side of the fence, and the field walkers were almost upon her. She staggered along the fence, trying desperately to reach the forest.

She felt something grab her shoulder, and she turned to swing the bat blindly. She heard a satisfying crunch as the bat smashed into the walker's weak skull, and grimaced when she was showered with bits of flesh and brain. More walkers grabbed at her, one tugging on her backpack, another biting at her wrist. Luckily, her jean jacket was too thick, and she kicked that walker down.

She was level with the end of the fence now, and the cafeteria walkers had started climbing out of the smashed section. She swung her bat around her blindly, holding on as it collided with several heads. She broke free of the ambush and pushed on into the dense undergrowth of the forest and ran as fast as she could through the bushes and over the logs, wincing as her hurt ankle protested.

Behind her the walkers were crashing their way through the trees, and she glanced around desperately for a low enough branch for her to grab. But just as she spotted a decent climbing tree, she felt something snag her foot and she was pulled upward. A coarse net wrapped around her, and snapped shut at the top, the branch it was hanging from bouncing from the sudden movement.

She looked down from her cramped position in the clearly home-made net. About seven feet below her were the walkers, but as she looked around she noticed more traps in the woods. Several walkers ran straight into long spears of bamboo sticking out of bushes and wedged between trees. Others were hoisted into nets similar to hers, hanging up around the trees like some sort of sick party decoration. Others fell into covered pits, landing on more spears and crumpling together as their spines snapped. There had only been forty or so walkers from the field, and maybe thirty from the cafeteria. Only about twenty walkers had made it into the forest so far, and all of those had fallen into the traps. The rest were pushing through the line of trees, and the girl watched as they too were stabbed, snagged up into the air, and pushed into the pits.

The girl waited for all the walkers to be trapped, the nets trapping them around her slowly spinning in the air, the pits filled with them hissing, the ones stuck on the spears growling and moaning. When the last unfortunate walker had speared itself securely on one of the stakes, the girl reached for her knife. She unclipped the holster and maneuvered as best she could to saw at the net under her feet. She was in a cramped position, her knees in her face and her left hand trapped behind her. Her left ankle ached, but she ignored the pain as she continued to saw at her prison. Whoever set these traps would come back, and she didn't want to stick around long enough for them to find her. In this world, she could trust no one. Every person still living had to make sacrifices, and choices they would never have considered before to survive. She kept hacking at the net, hoping that she hadn't run out of time yet.

**Well, there you go. First chapter. Hope you guys liked it!**

**Review, comment, hate on it, it's all good!**

**-the shadow-light**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay here we go, second chapter.**

**Once again, I do not own the Walking Dead, blah blah blah.**

**Onto the story!**

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Daryl had watched the girl come. He had watched her from his perch in the tree. He had watched her go into the cafeteria, only to come streaking back out again, followed by a crowd of hungry walkers. He had watched her run to the fence, climb up, and pause as more walkers rose from the field. He had watched her scoot along the top of the fence, heading right for him and his line of trees. Daryl had watched as a tall walker grabbed her, he had watched as she bashed its skull in with a baseball bat. He had silently watched as she fell from the fence, the swarm of walkers crowding her. He had thought she wouldn't make it, but she did, emerging from the herd with a fierce expression on her face, her dark hair and fair skin speckled with bits of blood and brains. He had watched her limp into the forest, and had watched as one of his nets swooped her up. He smiled a bit when the walkers fell into the pits, and that all the traps had worked. His plan had gone perfectly, and now he just had to go tell Rick.

He left his perch in the tree, climbing down silently, his crossbow slung across his back. He loped across the field to where the group was hiding in the small office building they had cleared out. He got there and knocked on the door, three times fast and two times lightly. The door unlocked and was pulled open by Rick.

"It worked," he said.

"Good." Wordlessly, Rick motioned to Carl, Michonne, and Glenn, and they slipped out past Daryl. Daryl went into the room and closed the door, locking it behind him. Maggie was talking quietly to Hershel, and Carol was looking out the window. Beth was feeding Judith the last of the formula.

"Lemme see that lil' asskicker," Daryl said, reaching for the baby. Beth handed her to him, smiling slightly. Daryl took the baby and the bottle, letting little Judith suck happily from it. Daryl went and sat next to Carol at the window, glancing out at the trees across the field, thinking about the girl stuck in their traps. It had been a pretty ingenious plan, Daryl thought.

They had needed more supplies, especially baby formula and medicine for Hershel's leg. It had been two months since they had secured the prison, and there hadn't been enough room for everyone left from Woodbury as well as Rick's group. The girl from The Governor's army, Karen, had agreed to stay and protect the residents, with the help of a couple of kids that had stayed behind during The Governor's attack. Rick had suggested that he take his people out, and that the Woodbury residents should stay behind. His reasoning was that they might as well get further away from The Governor, and though he didn't want to travel with Judith, he thought they could find a new place to settle for a while. No one had argued with him, though Carl had avoided his father's eyes, and Hershel had sighed.

But after three days of moving, they had found this small hospital in the middle of nowhere. Rick guessed that they would still have food, because it looked pretty untouched. Unfortunately, that was because the place was surrounded by walkers. The group had taken refuge in a small office building in the parking lot. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Rick, and Daryl had scoped the place out. The whole hospital had a chain-link fence around it, and only one area had been breached. On the other side of the fence was mostly a field, and then a forest. After a quick accidental-test that involved Glenn sprinting away from the field, they realized that the field was filled with walkers. They had gone onto the hospital grounds, scouting through the place. They found that most of the walkers were in the hospital cafeteria, with a few stragglers roaming the halls. They needed to get the majority of the walkers out of the way, get the group in the grounds, and patch up the hole in the fence. That was when Daryl had come up with his plan.

He told Rick that they could build traps and places to hold the walkers in the forest, and if they could somehow lure the walkers from the cafeteria and into the forest, they could put them down later and take the hospital. All they needed was bait, and after an argument with Glenn, Daryl said he would do it. Glenn had grown on him, as had all the members of their little crew, and after Merle, well... Daryl didn't want anyone else sacrificing themselves.

So they took two days making sturdy nets out of grass, vines, and cloth they had found around the hospital grounds. They also dug pits deep enough that even with walkers piled in they couldn't get out. Rick had suggested the sharp stakes, apparently he had gotten the idea from one of his runs with Carl and Michonne. Michonne had confirmed that they worked, so Daryl added those to their list of traps. After they set everything up, the group had retreated back to the office building, Daryl staying out to be the bait. He had climbed a tree, waiting for the perfect moment to lure the walkers back. But as he was preparing to sneak into the cafeteria, he had seen the girl. He decided to wait it out, because really, two pieces of bait would confuse the walkers and complicate everything. And sure enough, she had led the walkers straight into his traps. Of course, she managed to trap herself, but Daryl wasn't worried about that. At least she had got a net to herself; if she had been stuck in one with a walker... well, Daryl was glad she survived anyway.

Daryl decided he would tell Rick about the girl. If she got out of the nets somehow, she could be a danger to their group. He sighed and readjusted Judith in his arms. He would wait until they secured the hospital, at least.

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When Rick and the others returned, it was well after dark.

Rick led the whole group back through a side gate, and Glenn quickly looped a chain through the fence and gate and padlocked it. Then they hurried in through a set of double doors and down a hallway and through another door to a wide room, with another door on the end that was also pad-locked. The room was filled with multiple generic hospital beds. There was also a pile of food, water jugs, and medical supplies in one corner, and some bottles of baby formula standing on a counter by a sink. There was a smaller door that was slightly opened, and Daryl shot a glance at Rick, looking to the door.

"It's just a bathroom," Rick replied, and Daryl nodded. He handed Judith to Rick, then he went to the sink by the baby formula.

"Does this thing work?" he asked.

Glenn shrugged. "No."

Maggie turned and shut the door, pad-locking it for the night. Everyone settled on the beds, putting down their bags and loosening their limbs.

"Did you fix the fence?" Daryl asked.

Rick nodded.

"How?"

"Blocked it off with a couple of ambulances, and laced it up with wire," Carl replied. "Only part of that section caved, small enough that we could secure it without too much trouble."

Daryl looked at Carl. It was the most he had heard the kid say in a while, since... well, since he shot that kid. Hershel had told them how Carl kinda lost it after The Governor's second "ambush".

Daryl went and stood by one of the boarded up windows in the room. He looked out through a crack, not able to see the forest in the dark. He looked back at his family. _Yes_, he thought,_ they _are _my family_. _They're my only family I have left since Merle_... He forced his thoughts away from his brother, scowling as he looked at the group.

Carol and Beth were chatting, exchanging pleasant memories from their old lives. Carl was sitting near Beth, watching her quietly as she talked. Daryl shook his head, smirking slightly. Maggie and Glenn were holding hands in one corner, whispering to each other. Hershel was sitting on one of the beds, reading a book he had found in one of the houses they had raided. Rick was standing at another boarded-window, rocking Judith gently. Daryl smiled; the little asskicker was asleep.

Rick glanced up at Daryl, and Daryl waved him over.

"What is it?"

"Rick, I should tell you. I didn't bring the walkers into the forest."

Rick frowned. "Why'd they go in, then?"

Daryl looked around and lowered his voice. "There was a girl out there, young, maybe in her late teens, early twenties. She went into the cafeteria, and, well, basically led the walkers into the forest. It was kind of an accident."

Rick's eyes widened. "Did she see you?" he whispered.

Darryl shook his head. "She did get snagged in a net though. But not with walkers," he added quickly after seeing Rick's face.

"Is she still there?"

"I don't know. She had a bat, like a baseball bat, (she can hit pretty well, man) but I don't know if she had a knife with her or anything."

Rick nodded, thinking. "Tomorrow, when we put down the walkers, we can see if she's still there. If she's not, we'll post a guard, take turns, just in case."

"And what if she _is_ still there?" Daryl asked.

Rick frowned. "I... don't know. We'll figure that out when we get there. I... don't want to just kill her, but we can't take in anymore people in right now." He sighed. "I guess we'll just give her her some food, maybe some water, and warn her not to come back. You said she hits well with the bat?"

Daryl nodded. "She was bashing skulls pretty hard. I'd say she's used to it; she wasn't disturbed by it- that I could tell, anyway."

"So she'd still be okay on the road." Rick turned to gaze at his group. "We pretty much secured this place, there weren't nearly as many walkers as there were at the prison. There still might be a couple wandering inside the main part, but we should be fine for tonight."

Everyone nodded, and Rick moved to sit next to Carl on his bed. Carl grimaced, but reached for Judith. Maggie and Glenn stood up and went to consecutive beds, rustling through their bags. Carol stretched and went into the bathroom. She turned and smiled at Daryl, but he just nodded silently. Hershel stretched out on his cot and folded his page. Carl shifted on the bed, holding Judith while Rick watched him. Daryl saw the deep sadness in his eyes, and turned away. He went over to the bed closest to the useless sink and sat down on it. He took of his crossbow sling, stroking the feathered arrows in their place. He set it down at the end of the bed, and lay down. He stared at the cupboards and listened to the whispered goodnights behind him. He closed his eyes and wondered about the girl and if she would still be in the net tomorrow. He drifted off to sleep, and the last face saw before he sank into unconsciousness was the girl's.

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**Thanks for reading, and remember to review!**

**-the shadow-light**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay here is chapter 3!**

**Sorry that the last chapter was mostly in Daryl's head, but, you know, had to catch you guys up to speed there. Hopefully things can move faster now.**

**Also, every chapter will probably switch off on main perspectives.**

**Again, I don't own the Walking Dead, and if you see any grammar stuff, let me know.**

**Read and review!**

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The girl had been stuck there all night. She barely slept, what with her cramped position and the hissing walkers below her. After a while they had calmed down a bit, only moaning occasionally and shifting on their stakes or in their nets. The girl had been sawing through the net when her knife slipped and fell to the ground below her. She still had her baseball bat, but it was wedged between her back and her left arm, which was still twisted behind her. Her left ankle had been really bothering her, but it went numb a few hours ago, and she couldn't feel it anymore.

She had no choice but to stay in the net, and she was afraid to wriggle around, for fear of falling and still being trapped in it. Right now, being in the air kept her from hungry walkers that might stagger by, though she hadn't seen any all night. But now, it was morning, and she was growing more and more anxious. Whoever had set the traps would surely be by soon, and when they came she had no idea what they would do with her. She was smart enough not to hope that they wouldn't kill her. In fact, she expected it. For the past few hours, she had been preparing herself for death. There wasn't anyone she could say goodbye to; her family had all been slaughtered in the first nights, and she had already seen a couple of her friends as walkers roaming around. She was alone.

The girl had been thinking for a while when she heard voices in the distance. She couldn't see the field through the trees, but she could hear people talking. She strained to make out what they were saying.

"Where were the traps again?" she heard a raspy male voice call out in a southern accent.

"Over here." She blinked. A woman's voice.

"Where was she, Daryl?" the first voice asked.

"When she got caught in the net, it was over here to the left a little." The girl drew in her breath; they already knew about her. She could clearly hear their footsteps now.

And then they emerged through the trees. The walkers started hissing and writhing in their places. The girl studied the group silently, counting them, watching them, taking notes of their movements. There was a black woman with a strap going across her chest and a handle sticking out over her shoulder. She stared around sullenly, watching the walkers as they wiggled and whined. There was a man with slicked back hair and a stubble-covered jaw, frowning and looking up in the trees. The girl took note of the gun holster on his belt, next to a sheriff's badge. There was another man, younger than the first, with big biceps and a shirt with cut-off sleeves. He was holding a crossbow with many arrows in its holding slots, and he had a weenie little mustache and goatee. He was scowling and looked straight up at her. He had startling blue eyes, she noticed.

"That's her, Rick," he said, pointing. The girl thought he had a sort of redneck air about him.

_So_ he _must be Darryl_, the girl reasoned.

The other man, Rick, looked up. "Hello," he said in his raspy southern accent.

And then, to the girl's surprise, a young boy stepped out from behind Rick. He looked about thirteen, the girl judged, and he was holding a gun. A big gun. Though, the girl mused, it was, after all, the end of the world. On the boy's head sat a sheriff's hat.

"What is your name?" the first man, Rick, asked.

The girl just stared at him.

"We can't help you if you don't talk to us," Rick said.

The girl cleared her throat. "I don't need help."

The other man, Daryl, spoke. "Sure, we'll just leave then."

The woman, who had been studying the ground, picked up the girl's knife. Wordlessly, she handed it to Rick.

"Is this yours?" Rick asked the girl.

"Dropped it," the girl replied.

"What are you doing here?" the young boy spoke.

"What are any of us doing here?" the girl asked.

"We're getting rid of the walkers," Rick said.

"Are you going to kill me?" it was more of a statement.

Rick paused, looking at the girl, thinking. "Not yet."

The girl wasn't surprised, and she wasn't put out. She had expected it. "Are you going to let me down?"

"Eventually." Rick nodded at the woman, and she turned to the nearest impaled walker. In a smooth flourish, she whipped out the weapon on her back, which the girl noticed to be a saber-like sword. She smoothly swung the sword through the middle of the walkers head, cleanly pulling it up and out. The walker, now inanimate, sagged on the stake. The top half of its head flew off and hit a tree, spraying it with daro blood. Now the boy was pulling out a knife, and calmly walking around, skewering the trapped walkers in the head. Even the man with the crossbow was going around, shooting arrows cleanly into the eyes of the walkers in the nets.

Rick came towards the girl. "Are you alone?"

"We're all alone."

"No, do you have a group? And it will be easier for all of us if you just tell the truth."

The girl stared at the man. "No," she finally said.

Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes. The boy had put his knife back and took his gun out again, and this time the girl noticed the silencer on the end. The boy went to the edge of the first pit and started shooting the walkers in the head. The woman wiped her weapon off on the forest floor, sliding it back into its sheath on her back when she was done. The man named Daryl slung his crossbow onto his back as well, and moved to help her drag some of the inanimate walkers off the stakes and throw them into the first pit; the boy moving off to the second and shooting there. They all ignored the girl as they cleaned up their mess. Rick traded places with Daryl, and Daryl began cutting down the bags of walkers, each with an arrow through their brain, so they were gone. He pulled out his arrows and wiped each of them off, sticking them back into their places on the crossbow. Finally, all the walkers were in the pits, and the smell was so bad the girl's eyes watered. The boy left for a moment, then came back with a tank of gasoline and some matches. The girl watched as they lit each pit and sat there as the walkers burned. The top of the flames barely licked the edges of the pits, and the boy went around the pits' rims, kicking away dry leaves and twigs.

After a few minutes Rick turned back to the girl. The foul smell of the rotted, burning flesh was heavy in the air, and the girl wrinkled her nose in disgust. Rick watched the girl for a moment, then took out his own knife. He cut her down from the tree. The girl landed awkwardly, gasping, for she had landed on her left ankle. The sudden explosion of pain after the numbness brought tears to her eyes. She was still trapped in the net though, and waited for them to do something.

Rick moved forward with the knife, and when the girl shifted in the net the black woman whipped her sword back out so fast the girl didn't see it. In a flash, Daryl had also moved, and now he had his crossbow trained on her, his fingers gripping the trigger. The boy hadn't moved, just focused on her with his eyes, watching silently. Rick tensed, and the girl watched him warily. Judging from how the others acted and spoke to him, he was something like their leader. The girl wasn't worried about Daryl and the woman; they would only act if Rick said so. So the girl simply focused on Rick.

He moved forward slowly, and started to saw through the net. When the girl stayed still he relaxed, but the woman and Daryl did not. The girl waited patiently as Rick finished cutting a sizeable hole, and watched as he stood up and backed away. The girl sat there. She shifted. Daryl gripped the crossbow harder, and the woman tensed. The girl slowly, slowly opened the net, sticking first her right leg through the hole. When the woman shifted her weight, her saber trembling slightly, Rick shook his head. The girl stuck her left leg out gingerly, wincing when her ankle throbbed. She untangled herself from the net, and crouched down outside of it. She reached back in, pulling out the baseball bat tenderly. When the woman raised her saber and Daryl shifted his crossbow she dropped the bat and held up her hands warily, still in her crouched position, leaning to the right.

"Stand up slowly," Rick commanded in his drawling accent, "and turn to face me."

She did, turning to face Rick, who stood by Daryl. The boy was on her left, and the woman at her back. The girl's neck tingled; she could feel the woman glaring hard at her back.

"Drop your bag and keep your hands up."

The girl shrugged her bag off her shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. She stood tall, leaning on her right leg and holding her hands up above her shoulders. A twig snapped in the woods, and she turned slightly to look. The others did the same. When nothing lept out of the woods at them, they turned back to the girl. The boy was still staring into the trees, though.

"What's your name?" Rick asked again.

The girl stayed silent.

Rick sighed. "Carl, get the nets and the stakes. We can easily reuse them."

The boy, now named, went around collecting up the nets and taking the spears out of their places, delicately pointing them down.

"What about _her_?" Daryl asked, motioning to the girl with his bow.

"We'll take her with us," Rick announced, and the woman sighed. Rick went over to Carl and helped him collect the nets. Smoke was drifting around the trees, and it was beginning to get dark.

The woman said to turn around, and the girl did so. Daryl cut a piece of rope from one of the nets and tied her hands up. Then he picked up her baseball bat and backpack, slung her sling for the bat off the girl's back, and put everything on his back. The woman beckoned the girl to follow her, and she did, limping after the woman with Daryl after her, his crossbow trained on her back. Rick and Carl joined, their arms full of stakes and nets. Rick noticed the girl's limp and asked her what happened.

"I fell," was all she said.

They made their way through the field to a parking lot. There was a side gate with a chain and padlock there, and an asian man was sitting on a crate next to it.

"You guys sure took a while, I was getting worried. But then I saw the smoke." The asian man nodded at the black pillar rising from the trees. "Is that her? Is that the girl?" he said, eyeing the girl.

"Obviously," the boy, Carl, muttered.

The asian man unlocked the gate and threw it open quickly. "I saw two walkers heading towards the smoke, probably attracted to the light. Did you see them?"

"Nope," Rick said. "But I guess it's good we have these locks down."

They walked silently back to the hospital, going in through a set of double doors, walking down a hallway. They stopped at a door on the left, its rectangular window covered. The asian man knocked three times quickly, then two times lightly. The girl tucked that into her head for future use, though there was no doubt they would change it after she left.

The door was pulled open, and a woman with short, gray hair stood there.

They walked into the room, and the girl glanced around at the two other doors, the counter, the sink, the handful of beds, and the stash of supplies in the corner. She was surprised to see a pile of baby formula containers on the counter. She counted three other people in the room besides the six behind her- she was _way_ outnumbered. The three others in the room looked up; an old man, a girl with light blonde hair that looked a little younger than her, and a girl that looked a little older than her. To her surprise, the old man was holding a baby.

These people had a lot to lose, a reason to fight. There was no way she was going to live if these people considered her a threat. And with a sinking feeling, she was ushered into a corner as the door behind her closed shut, the ominous snaking of chains and the click of the pad-lock a sure sign that she wouldn't be leaving here easily.

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**Okay, okay, that was a pretty boring chapter, I guess, not really much action, but as dear Dale pointed out in his last days at the Greene farm, it will always be a fight against ourselves, too, or something like that. Basically, it's not just the walkers you have to watch out for at the end of the world. So, I had to put in something about how they reacted to this stranger. Hopefully next chapter will be a bit more interesting, have some better, descriptive (gory) action.**

**Read and Review.**

**-the shadow-light**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay! Four chapters in one day, and hopefully more coming!**

**Okay, this chapter was reeeaaally looong, so I had to split it into two parts. This part is shorter, and mostly the build up to the next chapter. The next one will have action, lot's of disgusting action, soooo...**

**And, I STILL don't own the Walking Dead, (unfortunately) but "the girl" and the plot are my own. And yes, "the girl" will be named. But don't get too excited, it's not an overly creative, exotic, cool name like "Michonne".**

**Enjoy!**

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The girl pulled half-heartedly at the ropes tying her to the cabinet door under the sink. If she really wanted to, she thought she could pull hard enough to get the door to come off, but that wouldn't go over very well with her captors. She understood why they were keeping her here, to make sure that she wouldn't try anything, but still, it wasn't like she was going to try to go back to the hospital since there were people living here now. But, alas, here she was, tied to a door handle, watching as this group of people interacted and decided her fate.

They hadn't stolen her things, just kept them away from her. Rick had put her knife and her baseball bat across the room, by the rest of their supplies. Her backpack had only contained another jacket, a pair of socks, two half-empty bottles of water, some stale bread, and two energy bars. After all, she had been trying to get more supplies from the hospital in the first place. They only let her eat and drink from her stash so they wouldn't waste anything on her. She did not hate her captors, nor did she respect them. She simply let them be whoever they were.

Honestly, she was glad she could rest here, but she wanted to get back out into the lonely world. Incredibly, she liked how she was alone, how she could travel and how quiet the world was. Except, of course, there were undead humans walking around trying to eat anything that was alive. But she had become used to these things, and was used to killing them.

Right now, the group was talking quietly near one of the three boarded up windows. She guessed they were deciding what to do with her. She stretched her legs out on the cracked linoleum floor, sighing as she relaxed her swollen ankle. The old man-Hershel, she thought-had apparently been something of a veterinarian, and was now the group's medical reference. He had declared her ankle sprained, and wrapped it up himself. She had noticed his stump-of-a-right-leg, but she didn't say anything. She was neither disgusted nor uncomfortable with the old man. In fact, he was the politest one to her, treating her with respect and looking her in the eye. The woman with the short hair, Carol, was also nice to her. She was the one who brought her water and her food. No one else looked at her except the boy-Carl. She would be looking at the ceiling, in deep thought, or else studying the group, watching them, when suddenly she would feel his eyes on her. She would turn to him, and stare evenly back at him. Neither blushed when caught, though eventually he would look away. The only time she ever saw him smile was when he was holding the baby, or when he looked at the other young girl, Beth.

The girl had been quietly listening to their conversations, picking up names. Sometimes, she heard names that didn't belong to any of the group, and wondered if there had been others at some point. Beth had asked Carl a question about a "Lori" at one point, and the girl had seen both Carl's eyes darken and Rick turn away, a troubled look on his face.

"Hey, you."

The girl startled, brought out of her thoughts. Crouched in front of her was Daryl, the crossbowman. She stared at him evenly.

"Come on, get up," he said, moving to untie her.

The girl's bonds fell away, but she did not try to escape. She wasn't afraid of Daryl, she just thought that she might as well see what was going on.

Daryl grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up roughly. She staggered forward, and he pushed her to start walking. He stayed behind her, and she felt eyes on her as they walked out of the room.

They walked out to the fenced-in black top outside, where the black woman, Michonne, the asian, Glenn, Beth's sister, Maggie, and Rick stood. In Rick's hands were the girl's knife and baseball bat. Tied to the fence behind them were a dozen walkers, bound with leftover rope from the nets. Rick looked grim.

"If you want to stay with us, you show us what you can do."

The girl looked surprised. "When did I say I wanted to stay with you?"

It was Rick's turn to look surprised. "Well, I... it's either that or we kill you."

"Why can't I just go off on my own?"

Rick was bewildered. "You _want_ to be alone?"

"Well, yes."

"Oh." He shot a look at Glenn, then Michonne, and finally Daryl. "Well... who's to say you won't come back and try to ambush us?"

"Why would I do that?"

Rick looked around, brow furrowed. "Let's just say there are people out there who would like to get the jump on us."

"Like The Governor?"

Everyone tensed, and Daryl gripped the girl's arm again in case she tried to run away.

Rick glared at the girl for a few moments. Finally, in that raspy voice of his, he said, "How do you know him?"

The girl was quiet for a long, long time. After two minutes had passed, Daryl squeezed her arm harder.

"Answer the question, bitch," he snarled.

The girl sighed. "The Governor is a bad, bad person," she said quietly. She saw Michonne turn and look her full in the eyes, the first time yet. Something flickered in her face, then she looked away.

"Go on," Rick prompted.

The girl stared at Rick as she spoke. "I was looking for supplies when I found them. A group of military men. They offered me food and water, and I thanked them. When I left, I saw a helicopter take off, hidden in the trees. I followed it for an hour, seeing where it would go. But it crashed, and I didn't go to help them, didn't go to see if there were any survivors." The girl saw Michonne staring at her in disbelief, but she went on. "I back-tracked to where the military men were camped out, but they had left. I followed their tracks, but when I found them, I stayed in the trees. A car followed by a truck was driving up to them, filled with more men. One guy was waving a white flag, in peace. He got out and started talking to them. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the new men suddenly opened fire. I had to stay behind a tree, low, so I wouldn't get hit. When I looked up again the new men were stealing the trucks, and all the military men were dead. I tracked the new men back to a town called Woodbury, and scouted it out. I heard The Governor telling lies to the people about how he got the trucks. Later, I listened to two guards talking. They were talking about The Governor, talking about how the people of Woodbury were gullible idiots. I heard enough and left. But before I did, I heard them say something about a prison, and... well, they said Michonne's name."

Rick nodded, frowning. Michonne looked at the girl again, and quietly said, "I believe her."

Rick nodded again. "I believe her, too."

"If you guys are fighting The Governor, I'll stay. It's not like I really have a schedule to keep or anything. I want to help you bring him down. I... I knew one of the guys in the military group. I mean, I knew him from, well, _before_. He was my friend. The Governor killed my friend."

Rick nodded a third time. "You still have to show us what you can do, though."

Michonne moved forward, grabbed Rick's arm. "Not like this," she said fiercely. "This is like something _he_ would do."

Daryl shifted behind the girl. "I don't know, Rick. It's a hell a lot like that bastard's ring of 'entertainment'. It's a dumbass thing to do."

The girl suddenly understood with grim certainty what the walkers tied to the fence were for. "It's okay," she said. "I get it. I wouldn't let someone into my group either if I knew they were a weenie. A _useless_ weenie."

Rick said, "Well, if you want to do it-"

"Plus," she added, "it would be good to exercise, get used to my ankle. I'm all stiff. If you don't want to see it as a 'way to prove myself', like a right of passage, then at least see it as a way to exercise."

Rick nodded again. "Okay, this is a way to 'exercise'."

They stood back, forming a wide, loose circle around the girl. The rest of the group filed out the doors, Carol holding the baby and Hershel leaning on his crutches. Beth and Carl stood by them, staring solemnly at the girl. They four stood back near the entrance to the building, watching from a distance.

Wordlessly, Rick handed the girl her knife and her baseball bat. Then he backed up and raised his silver pistol, silencer and all. Daryl already had his crossbow out and armed; Glenn and Maggie both had guns with silencers as well. Michonne walked over to the line of walkers and cut one free. When it lumbered over to her, she shoved it hard enough to spin it, facing it towards the girl.

* * *

**Okay, read on!**

**Of course, I don't know if anyone is actually reading right now, seeing as I published it all in one morning, so I don't have any reviews right this second as I'm typing. But when I update on a different day, I WILL have reviews, riiiight?**

**Exactly, so look at that box and REVIEW!**

**-the shadow-light**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, right onto the story!**

* * *

_Wordlessly, Rick handed the girl her knife and her baseball bat. Then he backed up and raised his silver pistol, silencer and all. Daryl already had his crossbow out and armed, Glenn and Maggie both had guns with silencers as well. Michonne walked over to the line of walkers and cut one free. When it lumbered over to her, she shoved it hard enough to spin it, facing it towards the girl._

The girl swayed and clapped, her bat sheathed in its sling and her knife in its holster, though the top was unbuckled so she could slip it out easily. She stomped her feet and whistled, drawing the walker to her so it would ignore the others. It moaned in response, stumbling towards her with its decaying, clawed hands outstretched and its rotted stench rolling off it in waves. The girl stood, letting it come close to her, then calmly pulled her bat out and swung it with both hands, smashing its head open and spraying blood and brains everywhere. A fracture of its skull skid along the asphalt over to the other walkers, who hissed and writhed in their bonds.

Michonne nodded approvingly and released two this time. They lurched towards her, but she ran over to the girl, and they both stamped and whistled. The two walkers changed their direction, stumbling frantically to get to their noisy prey. Michonne darted off around the circle, leaving the girl to stand alone in the middle. The girl took out her knife from its sheath; a six inch blade, wicked sharp, with a four-inch handle, it was more of a dagger. She gripped it firmly in one hand, holding the bat steady in the other. Both walkers used to be women, and one reached the girl faster than the other. The girl swung the bat above her head and smashed it down on the walker's skull like a club. Its head smashed down, collapsing in on itself like a rotted pumpkin after halloween. Bits of brain and flecks of gunk flew out both sides of the head, spraying as the walker collapsed.

The second walker ran with a sort of limp; half of its right foot was missing. Maggots wriggled in its hair, and the girl saw that one of its eyeballs was missing. In its place were shriveled bits of string-like flesh, flopping out over the eyelid as it ran. The girl swung her bat and with a crack it dislocated the walker's jaw. The walker swung around from the force, and the girl kicked out at the back of its right knee. Already unbalanced from that side, the walker went down with a crash, and the girl stomped on its head, watching as, once again, the head caved in like a rotten pumpkin, spewing dried clumps of blood and brain out of its cracks. The girl turned back to the last nine walkers, smirking slightly as Daryl let out a low whistle and Glenn raised an eyebrow. A flicker of a smile ghosted Michonne's lips, and she cut three more walkers loose.

The girl took a breath, steadying her lungs. Two of the next walkers were wearing men's clothing, and, for some reason, Michonne was stalling one of them. She danced back and forth, luring the walker in then darting out of its reach. It hissed and swiped at her again, but she kept her dance up, occasionally going behind it, taunting it. But the girl couldn't afford to be distracted right now, as the other two walkers lunged after her.

This time, the walkers kept even pace; the girl had to face two at once. She waited for them to just reach her, and when their rotted, moldy fingers clawed out at her, she twirled away, around them to their backs. Before they could turn, she swung her bat and knocked the other male walker's head clean off, barely sparing it a glance as it soared off towards Maggie, who backed up when it bounced towards her. Its body crumpled to the ground and the girl kicked it at the other walker, using gravity to angle its descent towards the walker's feet. The walker stumbled over it and fell; unluckily, however, it fell _towards_ the girl.

She jumped out of its way but it snagged her shoe with its clawed hand, and she fell back, _hard_. Her head slammed onto the ground and she blacked out for a moment. Barely a second passed before she opened her eyes to see the fallen walker lunge out at her. It landed square on her, its taloned fingers raking at her chest. Luckily, she still had her jean jacket on, and the fingers found no skin. But its mouth was still an issue as it snapped down near her neck, and she grabbed its wilted, filthy hair and snapped its head back. When the girl had fallen, her baseball bat had been knocked out of her hands, but she still had her knife, and she rolled with the walker, stabbing it in the head behind its ear. It's mottled flesh was softer there, and the knife sank in easily. But it wasn't enough to put the walker down, so she pulled it out again, grimacing at the splotching noise when it slid out. Instead, the girl stabbed down into one of its yellowed, bloodshot eyeballs. She stabbed it over and over, the knife being sucked into the rotting flesh. The last time she pulled it out, the eyeball stayed on it and pulled out of its sock with a stomach-churning pop. The walker stayed still, no longer moving, and the girl grimaced again.

She looked up at Michonne, who was still dancing with the walker. She glanced over and saw the girl was done, and spun out of the dance, snap-kicking the walker in its back with her turn. The walker stumbled forward, snarling. It looked up at the girl and snarled again, running after her awkwardly.

Michonne stood back to watch, but she commanded, "kill this one quietly, like you're on a run and don't want to be noticed." This got an approving nod from Rick, who was watching the girl's fight like a hawk.

The girl nodded and bent her knees, feet spaced apart, one foot slightly ahead of the other. She ignored her bat, which was lying next to the walker missing an eye. Michonne's walker loped over to her, hissing and growling. The girl waited until the last second, and jumped out of its way. The walker barreled past her, confused, and before it could turn she had planted one foot at the base of its spine, grabbing its short, limp hair, and snapped its head towards her. Its neck cracked with a sickening snap, but that didn't end its reanimated life. The girl quickly drove her knife down between its eyes, and immediately, the walker dropped.

The girl stood back satisfied, but then she remembered she still had six more walkers to go. Internally groaning, she turned back just in time to see Michonne cut all six walkers loose before darting away, sword drawn. Daryl backed up and readied his crossbow, two more arrows in his hand. Glenn and Maggie raised their guns, training them on the walkers. Rick backed up to stand in front of the four- well five, counting the baby- spectators.

Hungrily, the walkers looked around, some staggering towards Michonne and Glenn, others staring at the girl. They lumbered forward, unsure of where to go. The girl warily clapped her hands and kicked the ground, picking up a loose rock and chucking it at the nearest walker. It swung its head around, almost glaring at her as if it was offended by her throw. Growling, it started towards her, and the girl quickly lunged over to where her dutiful bat lay. Snatching it up just as the nearest walker was upon her, the girl used her momentum to swing the bat up into its jaw, snapping the walker's head back and making it crumple down from its shattered spine. Sure, it wasn't done yet, writhing pathetically on the ground, but she could leave it till the end. She still had five other functioning walkers to deal with.

She turned back just in time to see two walkers racing towards her, their shredded dresses streaming out behind them. She swung towards one and smashed the bat against its face; the force of the hit made the rotted flesh ripple back and its nose flattened, blackened teeth flying out of its gaping mouth. The walker fell back from the force, and the girl twirled her knife in her hand before driving it into the walker's skull.

The second walker fumbled over and snagged the girl's dark hair, and the girl just barely ducked before the walker's rotted mouth clamped down where the girl's head had been only seconds before. The walker still had its grip on her hair, but the girl swiped the bat around, snapping its wrist back, breaking the fingers, and the girl's hair slipped free. The girl turned, and, using her momentum, kicked up like a dancer, using all her force to snap the walker's head back. Her leg shook from the contact, and her left ankle protested as she balanced precariously on it. This particular walker must have been really weak, because its head flew clean off its body, hissing as it flew through the air. But the girl had counted on it staying on, and as her leg continued flying up from her kick, she slipped and fell onto her back. Rolling with the momentum, she completed a full backwards-summersault, and when she stood up again, the remaining three walkers were closing in.

She looked up at them, formulating a quick plan. She snap-kicked the nearest one in the hip, sending it smashing into the two beside it. All three went crashing down, and she hopped lightly on her right foot, her left foot screaming in pain. She stabbed down hard, brown, glutinous blood seeping out from the knife wound in the walker's skull. She stabbed again, driving the knife all the way in to the hilt.

She left its limp body on top of the other two, and swung her bat like a club again so it crashed down on the second walker's face. It's nose broke, cartilage flattening out under its flesh as more brown blood flew out onto her jeans. She smashed down onto its skull again, this time hearing the very audible crack. _One last one_, she thought. She jumped back as her final opponent rose up from under the other two walkers' bodies.

She stumbled back in alarm. She hadn't paid much attention to this last walker, having been more focused on the one on the other end. But this one... this one was enormous; a huge, hulking beast of a thing. It was a good six and a half feet tall, at least, and must have weighed more than three hundred pounds. It's arms were ripped and its muscles huge; even after the body had wasted away, the muscles were still taut and strong. It's face peeled away from the flesh underneath, dried but bloody chunks hanging from all over its body. It had bullet holes in its chest, and a fair amount of its right thigh was missing.

"Holy fuck," she whispered as she looked up at the walker in awe.

It leaned over her, swiping at her with its clawed hand. She ducked, but its long fingernails still caught on her hair, and it ripped away from her scalp. She cried out in alarm as it roared, foul-smelling saliva and bits of old blood flying from its mouth. She felt her head; a small patch of hair about the size of a dime had been ripped away. She glared up at this walker; it would be a fight like no other.

She ducked again as it swiped at her with its other hand, and it lurched forward, stomping after her as she turned and ran. After she was a good six paces away from it, she turned and rolled between its legs. It was still running, so she was only underneath for a second. She quickly turned and leaped onto its broad back, careful to keep her legs away from its powerful jaws. She grabbed at its ear with her left hand, dropping the bat. There was no way that would make an impact on this hulking monster.

She stabbed down with her knife, and her whole arm went numb from the jar of impact. Its thick, fleshy head and hard skull offered no penetration to her blade, and she almost slipped from its back. Its ear came off in her left hand, and, disgusted, she threw it to the ground. Dark, mushy blood splotched out of its ear and down its naked shoulder. Determining that her knife would find no purchase through its hard head, she chose a more direct, easier route. She angled her wrist and put as much force as she could behind her knife as she drove it into the walker's puffy, bloodshot eye. The walker stumbled, but could still function; it's left half of its body shut down, and it leaned to that side. The knife wouldn't come loose, so the girl jumped of its back, rolling as she hit the asphalt.

She turned and eyed Carl, standing next to his dad, staring at the monster-walker with horror. She turned in a quick circle, glancing as Daryl backed away quickly, squinting at the walker and aiming his crossbow. Glenn had stepped in front of Maggie, pushing her back from the scene. Michonne stared at the girl, watching what she would do next, bent forward with her sword flicking back and forth. The girl ran at Glenn, and the monster stumbled after her.

"Give me your gun!" the girl screamed at Glenn.

Bewildered, Glenn threw his gun at the girl. She caught it, turning quickly and fumbling with the safety. She snapped it back, and aiming it at the monster's untouched eye she squeezed the trigger. A quiet zipping sound shot out from the gun and the walker staggered back as blood exploded out of its eye socket. The girl re-aimed and fired again and again, flashes of thick, brown blood flying out from its skull with each shot. The monster finally went down. It fell with a huge crash, and its right arm twitched before it was finally still.

The girl stared at it. Then she looked around her. The eleven other walkers were laying in heaps on the ground, one body still twitching, spine broken but still alive. She walked over to it and stomped on its head. The skull collapsed in on itself and more brain and brown blood shot out of its wrecked orb. She saw the two dislocated heads and stomped on them too, splattering brain and blood on the asphalt. A foul stench hung in the air, and her eyes watered at the severity of it.

She turned back to the monster walker and put her right foot against its head, leaning down and pulling her knife out of its eye. The eye slid out of its socket with a wet pop, but it sprang back off her knife, pulled by a bit of elasticky flesh. It hung down from the walker's skull, bouncing slightly. Disgusted, the girl turned to Michonne.

"How the hell did you get that thing in here? And how _the hell_ did you keep it tied to the fence?"

Michonne stared coolly at the girl. "I have my ways," was all she said before turning and walking to Rick.

The girl stared after her, before turning to Glenn. Maggie watched her warily as the girl approached Glenn.

"Thanks," the girl said, handing Glenn the gun.

Glenn nodded mutely and took the gun, taking Maggie's hand and turning back to the group. Something flashed on Maggie's finger and for the first time, the girl noticed a small ring on Maggie's fourth finger of her left hand.

"That was some fight," said a voice in her ear, and the girl turned to see Daryl standing there, one hand holding his crossbow casually over his shoulder.

"It's survival," the girl replied.

They walked over to Rick, who was talking with the group.

"Well?" the girl asked. "Am I joining your fight, or am I slated for execution?"

Rick glanced swiftly at Daryl, who nodded.

"You're in."

The group filed back into the hospital, securing the doors behind them and heading back to their room.

"So you got a name, lil' girl?" Daryl asked, casting a sideways glance at the girl.

The girl hesitated a moment, then replied simply "Charlie."

Daryl nodded and they walked into the room.

* * *

The Governor watched them file back into the hospital. He hated to admit it, but he was impressed by the girl's skill. She was a valuable addition to Rick's little gang. But even with her help, they would not be able to stand against him this time. No, this time, this time The Governor was going to hit them, and hit them hard. He wouldn't stop until every last one of them was dead, all of their heads his. This time, they had no chance.

The Governor smiled grimly as he drew back into the forest.

* * *

**Whew, that was a looong one.**

**What's The Governor got planned now?**

**Review, comment, and hate! And you know what? I'll even take suggestions and ideas to the story into consideration. Probably.**

**Just fill in that little box down there, ya see it?**

**Yep, that one right there.**

**-the shadow-light**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for reading, and, sadly, I still don't own anything from the Walking Dead, but Charlie, the plot (so far), and any other OCs are my own.**

**And thank you for everyone who has favorited/followed the story. And everyone who is still reading it but not on alert for it.**

**Onto chapter six!**

* * *

Daryl studied Charlie silently. It had been three days since she had officially joined the group, and so far, she had kept to herself. Rick hadn't trusted her with anything major yet; he sent her out twice already with Glenn and Maggie to find possible landmarks in the woods. Her loyalty had been tested, and she had come back dutifully to the group both times. She had even put down a walker for an unsuspecting Maggie, who was almost bit. After that Glenn seemed to trust Charlie a bit more, and Maggie had stopped shooting her glares.

Michonne had also seemed to be more relaxed around the girl; she had even complimented her on one of the moves Charlie had used during her "exercise." Charlie seemed to trust Michonne the most; both girls had a determined sort of air about them and Michonne had opened up to the girl about the helicopter crash from _her_ point of view.

Hershel and Carol had already been treating the girl with respect, and now that she was an official part of their crew, their respect seemed to grow. Daryl had also noticed that Carl was even paying attention to the girl; he had caught the boy staring studiously at Charlie a number of times already. _Though_, he mused, _it wasn't quite the same way that he stared at Beth_. Daryl, Rick, and Hershel had all noticed that Carl's affections were growing for the young blonde, and Carol had already encouraged the boy more than once.

Of course, Daryl had mixed feelings about Charlie joining the group. Sure, she had managed to fight off some walkers well that other day, but he still remembered his first impressions of her. She had snuck into the cafeteria somewhat blindly, and she hadn't noticed any of his traps in the forest until it was too late. Daryl knew that to survive in this new world, you couldn't just be skilled at taking out walkers. You had to be attentive, too, and be able to use _all_ of your senses to your advantage. In fact, Daryl didn't consider anyone a true warrior unless they used their senses properly. That's why he saw eye to eye with Michonne; not only could the woman fight, but she could track damn well and tell the difference between a squirrel and a chipmunk rustling in the woods.

Daryl felt obligated to make sure the girl could use these skills. He wasn't sure why; perhaps it was because it had been he who had brought the girl to the group. He told himself it was because he didn't want to be recognized for bringing a nuisance, a burden, and instead for bringing a useful person. But Daryl wasn't quite sure that was it. Either way, he was determined to catch the girl up.

* * *

Charlie was helping Carol fold some of the spare blankets they had found around the hospital when Daryl approached her. Carol smiled at Daryl sweetly and walked off to help Beth feed Judith. Charlie stopped her folding and looked up at the tall man before her.

"Can I help you?"

"I been thinkin'. You know how to track an' hunt?"

Charlie stared at Daryl evenly. "Nope, not really. Just been living off scavenged foods and some wild mushrooms. Before the world went to shit I worked at an auto shop."

"You know cars?"

Charlie snorted. "My uncle owned the shop, and I needed a job. Just got kicked outta school, you see. Was trying to get a degree in psychology. That didn't work out too well, though, and I needed some quick money. So, he offered me a job. Mostly, I just worked the phone, but he showed me some of the easier stuff. So I didn't know much about surviving in the wild like this."

Daryl was vaguely surprised by this confession. This was the first bit of personal information he had received from Charlie so far.

"Don't matter what you did before; the world's changed and you need to know how to hunt now. You get stranded somewhere, no stores or nuthin' around, you gonna die. How about I take you out tomorrow, you can get some basics down, practice, and we can bring back some big game. Or, you know, rabbits and squirrels."

Charlie considered him. "Why me though? Why not Carol or Beth? Or Maggie, or even Glenn? I bet they don't know how to hunt either."

"But none of them are serious fighters, warriors, like you an' Michonne. Michonne knows how to hunt."

"I'm a warrior?" Charlie asked incredulously.

"You will be when I'm through with you."

Charlie sighed. "All right, I'll come. That is, if you can get Rick to let us go."

Daryl grimaced. He had forgotten about Rick.

"Lemme deal with Rick. You just get your ass ready to go tomorrow." And with that, Daryl turned to go find Rick.

* * *

Daryl found Rick patrolling the fence outside. He joined him, watching warily as a walker limped by slowly in the field, speeding up as it saw a squirrel run for the trees. Both Daryl and Rick stopped to watch as the walker snatched it up at the last second, raising it to its mouth with a gnarled fist and ripping a strip of flesh off with its rotted teeth. The squirrel writhed and chattered in the walkers' clawed hand. The walker raised its other hand and snapped the squirrels' neck. Instantly the squirrel was quiet and the walker bit its head off. Daryl could hear the faint crunch of the skull from his place behind the fence, and the walker raised its head to look at the humans with hollow eyes, bits of flesh hanging out of its mouth while it noisily chewed, blood streaming down its chin. When neither man moved, the walker looked back down at its squirrel, disinterested, and took another bloody bite. Daryl turned away and looked at Rick.

He cleared his throat. "Rick, I was thinking of going out and doing some hunting tomorrow."

Rick rubbed a hand over his unshaven face. "And...?"

"...and I'm taking Charlie with me. Teach her a bit of tracking and trapping. She would be more useful to the group..."

"No, no," Rick said quickly, waving his hand. "I need you _here_. If The Governor attacks, or if a herd breaks through the fence, I need you _here_. I can't afford to lose any men right now. Both you and Charlie need to stay."

Daryl scratched his chin. "But it'll only be for a day or so, and when we come back, we'll have more food. And," he lowered his voice, "it will be a good chance to find out more about her, see if she's got any real issues we can't deal with. And see if she's got any more useful skills. This trip will be worth it, I promise you."

Rick stood back and glared around, hands on his hips, breathing through his nose. "But what happens," he began, leaning forward to stare at Daryl, "what happens if something goes down here without you? If you're not here," he stood back and laughed humorlessly, "I just... I need you here, Daryl. The _group_ needs you here. Carl, Hershel, Maggie, Beth, Glenn, Carol, Michonne, Judith..."

Daryl squinted. "I promise you, we'll be back before something happens. And there ain't no way The Governor gonna find this place. Not by tomorrow. Or by the next day. Ya'll be safe here. I _promise_ you."

Rick stared at Daryl for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Fine! Go ahead. But if anything happens, if anyone dies..." he jabbed Daryl's chest with his finger, "that blood will be on _your_ hands. And hers."

"I know." Daryl stood back and hoisted his crossbow higher on his back. "I know."

"Alright then. Good hunting."

* * *

When Daryl returned to the room, Charlie was talking quietly to Michonne. The two women were sitting in a corner, whispering fiercely back and forth. Carl was holding Judith and watching them, while Beth held a bottle to the babe's tiny mouth. Hershel, Glenn, and Maggie were having a playful debate about Hershel's book, and Carol was standing at one of the boarded windows, staring out in the dimming light. Daryl shot a glance over to where Charlie was sitting, then went over to stand at Carol's side.

He joined her at the window, pulling his crossbow over his head and setting it against the ground. He looked out through one of the openings in the boards, squinting at the setting sun. He looked down at Carol. She looked so sad, so... tired.

"Whadderya thinkin' about?" he asked quietly.

Carol gave a great sigh, not looking away from the window. "Just... everyone we've lost. Ed, Amy, Jim, Jacqui," her voice faltered, "..Sophia... Dale, Shane, Jimmy and Patricia, T-Dog, Lori, Oscar, Axel, Merle, Andrea..."

Daryl was silent.

Carol let out a breathy laugh. "Axel, heh, well, he thought I was a lesbian." She turned to Daryl and he saw that she was grinning at him. Then her grin faded. "He didn't deserve to die as he did. None of them did..."

Daryl nodded. He was glad that Carol hadn't complained that it was fair; nothing was ever fair, nothing is ever fair. Daryl knew that from experience.

"And then there was everyone from before..." Carol looked at Daryl again. "Did you lose anyone? From before, I mean."

"No," Daryl said curtly.

Carol turned back to the window. The little light that had seeped through the spaces between the boards was gone. Outside was dark; night had fully fallen. Daryl patted Carol on the shoulder briefly and walked over to where Michonne and Charlie were sitting. He crouched down in front of the new girl.

"Rick said we can go. We leave at first light tomorrow. You know how to shoot a gun?"

Charlie shook her head.

"That'll be fine, for now. You'll learn later. For now, we'll stick to trappin' an' trackin'."

Charlie nodded. "Will we be gone overnight?"

Daryl shrugged. "Most likely. See you tomorrow." He stood up and walked over to where Carl was sitting with the baby. He took the babe in his arms and sat down on the bed next to Beth and Carl. Charlie watched him go wordlessly, said a brief goodnight to Michonne, and went to her bed in the far corner. She didn't know what to expect of the following day, but she knew it would be interesting. A new experience, to say the least.

* * *

A faint light was barely creeping through the boarded windows when Charlie was shaken roughly awake. She blinked her eyes open to see Daryl standing over her, removing his hands from her shoulders as soon as he saw that she was awake.

"Come on, git up."

Charlie sat up and stretched. She reached down and grabbed her backpack, which just had a bottle of water and a pack of crackers from the stash of food by the sink. It also contained some twine, a couple of bandaids, and a few matches. She slung it onto her back, as well as her baseball bat in its sling. She tightened the ropes, making sure it was secure, and pulled her knife from under her pillow. She stuck it in its sheath, folding the cover over its handle, the hole in the top settling snugly around the grip. She snapped it shut and pulled on her boots. She laced them up quickly and stood up, turning to see Daryl standing at the door, waiting for her. She straightened her jacket as they left the hospital doors.

She pulled a rubber band off her wrist and pulled her long, dark hair back into a messy ponytail. Glenn was on watch, pacing slowly up and down along the fence. He nodded to them as they passed, following them to the side gate. He pulled out a key and unlocked the chain, shoving the gate open. Daryl and Charlie pushed out past the fence, and Charlie heard the gate clang shut behind them, the chain snaking back around and securing the fence. They walked towards the tree line quickly, Daryl looking around, watching for walkers. When they hit the trees, Charlie looked back at the hospital behind them. Glenn was watching them, and she nodded grimly at him before turning and following the tall man wielding the crossbow into the forest.

* * *

**Well, I can't promise to be consistent in updates. I'll update at least once a week, but it will probably be more often than that. Once I get more in the flow, I'll have an order figured out and will be more predictable in my updates. Probably.**

**So, until then, readers.**

**- the shadow-light.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello everyone, thanks again for reading.**

**Before we continue on with this chapter, I have a sort of shout out for ya'll:**

**If you guys haven't read "Accident or Grand Design" and its sequel "Home" yet, you need to. It's written by this amazing, nice, pleasant lady, ChooseJoy. Her writing is so good, when you go back to watch the show, you miss her OC. Everything in her story is real and believable and engaging. She's pretty much got the gist of all the Walking Dead characters and their actions. I urge ya'll to check it out. It's great.**

******Also, I changed the length of Charlie's knife; it's no longer six inches but now 12 inches, which is about the size of Merle's blade on his swiss-army hand. But.. I didn't actually go back and change it in the writing... If I have a lot of time later I will do that.**

**And now, onto the story.**

* * *

Back at the hospital, Rick was organizing the group.

"Listen up, ya'll. We've been running low on supplies. Food, at least. And some of us look like we could do with some new shoes and clothes." He looked around at Carl's worn tennis shoes, one of the soles peeling off, and his tattered shirt; Glenn's holey pants and shoes with the missing ties; Maggie's ripped tank top; Beth and Carol's frayed sweatshirts and jeans.

"On our way here, we passed by that strip mall," Rick continued.

"But we already cleared that place out," Glenn interjected.

"Not all of it," Rick reminded him. "Remember, we hid the stuff we couldn't fit into the car in the back of the hair salon. That street had so many supplies we couldn't bring them all."

"What if someone took them already?" Carl asked.

"We hid them too well," Maggie replied. "And we spread them out; remember, Glenn and I hid some under that loose floorboard in the cafe. Just in case."

Rick nodded in agreement. "We need to make a run. Preferably by tonight; Judith's baby formula is almost out." They all looked at the sleeping baby in Carol's arms. "I think we put the extra baby stuff in the cafe as well."

"I'll go," said Michonne, who was leaning against a wall.

"Me too," Glenn said, and after a glance to Maggie she said she'd also go.

"That's all we need," Rick said. "You guys take the Hyundai. It has the most gas. And while you're there, see if you can get more. Bring the jugs with you."

The three nodded and went around the room, grabbing empty bags and the two empty gas holders, as well as their siphoning hose. They left quickly, waving at the group.

"Carl," Rick said, and Carl got up, adjusting his gun holster and checking his knife sheath, before putting on the sheriff's hat and leaving to go take watch.

Carol and Beth went over to sit next to Hershel, who was waking up from his nap, Carol still holding Judith. Rick went outside to take watch next to Carl. He sat down next to him in one of the couple of chairs they had brought outside from the cafeteria. They sat there quietly, watching the field and forest.

"Dad?" Carl asked eventually.

"Yes, son?'

"When The Governor attacked the prison the first time, why were you outside?"

Rick was silent, not knowing what to say. He debated telling his son- who put down his wife, who was there for her last breaths, who didn't know that Lori's body had been eaten- he debated telling him about his hallucinations. He looked around at the distant trees, staring as if he could almost see her glowing silhouette again.

"I don't know son," he said eventually, "I don't know."

* * *

The Governor strode through his camp impatiently. He walked up to the small hunting cabin his team had set up around, banging the door open and marching into the one-room hut. Martinez and Shumpert were hunched over a map on a table, debating quietly where to go for their next supply run. They both snapped up at the sound of the door, and straightened when they saw The Governor.

"Boys, we got ourselves a little complication," The Governor said. Both men stood to attention, Martinez warily eyeing The Governor's gun held in his hand.

"Follow me," The Governor said, turning to walk back out the door and down the wooden steps. He led the two through the small, temporary camp they had set up around the hunting cabin. Large trucks formed the perimeter, four armed men walking around on top of them, the underneath spaces blocked off with heavy metal grates. There was a handful of tents situated around the camp, the largest of which belonging to their leader.

The Governor led them around to the back of the cabin, where there was a small shed. A man stood guard outside, a shotgun held across his chest. The man nodded as the three passed through the now-unlocked door. Inside the small metal shed were a few gallons of gas, some spare tools, and a pole that supported the roof. Tied to the base of the post was a man. He was hunched over, and when The Governor pulled him up, Martinez and Shumpert could see that he was bruised and bloody. With the little light filtering in from the holes in the ceiling, they could also see that he was a black man, with a scruffy beard and a torn flannel shirt. The man glared up at them.

The Governor crouched down in front of the man. "These are my friends. We just want to help you. If _you_ help _us_, maybe _we_ can help _you_."

The man on the floor spat at The Governor. "Like hell. If you want to help me so bad, untie me and let me be on my way."

"Well, now, we can't do that," The Governor said with a little laugh. "When our people found you, you tried to kill us. We can't have you hurtin' my men, now can we?" The Governor shook his head sadly. "But, we can sure use your help and your skills around here. My people were recently attacked, and we need to do all we can to fortify ourselves in case of retaliation."

The man looked up at The Governor. "Gimme one good reason."

The Governor sighed and stood up, pacing around the dirt floor. Martinez and Shumpert drew back out of his way. "When we found you, you had a pretty nice little set up, didn't you? Kept yourself safe. With your methods, we could easily keep many people safe, couldn't we? Now, we found you on a roof, shooting your head off at us, and you gravely injured three of my men. In case you hadn't noticed, I can't really afford to spare any men right now."

The Governor crouched down in front of the man again. "But, with your strategies, I can stock up on muscle, and keep everyone safe. But even with more men, I'm going to need weapons and ammunition..."

The man met The Governor's one good eye. "...What are you saying?"

The Governor stared down at the man. "I'm saying, you all by yourself up there on that roof, shooting anything that moves, you must've had some back up bullets stored somewhere. In fact," The Governor leaned closer to his prisoner, "I think you had a whole stash. But you seem to have some wicked skills when it comes to booby traps, my friend," the man sneered at the term, "so I think you have that stash well protected. And now you see my problem, and how you can help."

The man looked up at The Governor. "And I'm going to tell you how to get to that stash because..."

The Governor leaned forward and a wicked gleam lit his only eye, "Because if you don't," he hissed through his teeth, "I will make the rest of your living life hell on earth. And if you die before telling me how to get in there, I will push your shambling corpse through your sick maze and let it take all the traps on by itself. I will not rest until those weapons are _mine_." He sat back on his heels and said in his normal, calm tone, "so either way, I win. But I suggest you take the easy route, and just tell me how to get into your little lair without severe consequences. _That_ route involves less pain on your end and is much easier for us all." He stood up. "I'll give you time to think. I'll be back in an hour for your answer. And you best pray you have the strength to swallow your pride and tell me straight up how to navigate through your traps."

"I'll tell you straight up to go fuck yourself," the man hissed back.

The Governor laughed and signaled to Martinez and Shumpert. "I like you. I hope you choose the easy path. We can always use men like you. See you in an hour, _Morgan_."

And with that The Governor walked back out the shed, Martinez and Shumpert flanking him, Morgan cursing after him.

* * *

When Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne returned to the hospital, everyone was ecstatic with their findings. Once again, they had food and plenty of water, and this time, they had new clothes and shoes as well. Not only were they new, unripped, and hole-less, but they were _clean_. Carol and Beth laughed weakly as they inhaled their new shirts, and Carl quickly exchanged his old, ratty sneakers for the new, whole ones Maggie had brought back in his size. Everyone was overjoyed with their finds, and everyone vowed to take extra-special care of their new garments. Though, of course, they all knew that they would get torn, dirty, and ruined very quickly in this new world.

"I didn't think you guys would manage to find everything in one run," Rick said after pulling on his new, clean undershirt.

"Well, there was the small clothes store," Glenn replied. "That street was untouched. It was a gold mine!"

Maggie nodded in agreement. "It was exactly the same as we left it- completely undisturbed. I can't believe no one's been through there. We got as much stuff as we could fit into the Hyundai. We'll be good for a month. At least."

Michonne nodded as well. She had found a newer, less worn pair of combat boots in her size. She had also found another paper mache cat, which she had already put discreetly next to her old one beside her bed. She couldn't help but agree with the others; this run had been the most satisfying in a long time. They would be stocked for weeks, which was a rare thing in this new world. In fact, it was just as rare as finding an intact strip mall. Michonne was just slightly discomforted by this fact; it was almost too rare. She kept her suspicions to herself; after all, who would waste the supplies on stocking up a street so _they_ could thrive?

Charlie and Daryl hadn't returned yet, though it was well past dark outside. Michonne was on watch, and as Rick lay in his hospital bed, he couldn't help but let his thoughts stray to the newcomer. Who was she? Where had she come from? Who had she lost? He wasn't worried that they weren't back yet; Daryl almost never took one-day hunting trips. Rick just hoped they were still out because they had found some big game, and not for any troubling reasons. He rolled over, hoping that they would return soon. He needed to discuss fortifying the hospital with Daryl, just in case The Governor somehow found them. He knew good things rarely lasted long in this world, and he knew their time was running out before something disastrous had its chance to happen.

When he finally drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but dream of Lori.

* * *

**Well. Hope that tides you over till the next update.**

**At first, this was going to be the eighth chapter, but I got stuck on the other one, so now this is the seventh. But don't worry; I'll have the next one out soon.**

**Oh, and I really encourage you guys to check out that story!**

**-the shadow-light**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, here we go, another chapter.**

**I am sorry this took a week, but this past week was really crazy for me.**

**I know these chapters are short, but like I said before, I will be trying to update twice a week, or at least twice every six to eight days. I will probably find two days out of the week to act as deadlines, but for now it's gonna be pretty unpredictable.**

**Thank you to the handful of people who have followed/favorited this story, and thanks to MAR76 and ScornedxRose for your reviews.**

**And now, I give you chapter 8.**

* * *

They had been walking through the forest for the greater part of the morning. It was mostly quiet, except for the occasional rustle of an animal or caw of a bird. They'd only seen one lone walker, which had been taken care of easily. Daryl had found some tracks of a dear around noon, and had pointed them out to Charlie. He had explained how to look for them, how to watch for the way the leaves parted slightly and the earth disturbed. They had followed the tracks slowly, Daryl occasionally spouting a tip or pointing out observations.

They had tracked the deer for about an hour when they found it. It was a healthy sized buck with a fair set of antlers. According to Daryl, it was a White-tailed deer, which was native to the Georgia area. Daryl had said it would have made a fine dinner for the group... except for the two walkers crouching over it and tearing chunks of flesh of it, picking through the intestines and guts that spilled from a jagged hole in its abdomen. Charlie had taken one out with her knife and Daryl the other with a bolt to the head.

They had continued on, not risking taking any of the deer in case it was infected. Daryl showed her some simple squirrel traps; he thought she would make more of a trapper than a hunter. As they continued walking through the forest, following a new set of tracks left by a fairly large rabbit, they conversed lightly.

"So, Charlie, how old are ya?" Daryl asked, breaking the heavy silence as he stepped over a mossy log.

"Hmm... what month is it?" Charlie replied, brushing some low-hanging leaves out of her way.

"Early October, maybe?" Daryl counted back the months in his head; they had left the farm early winter, spent about eight months on the road-according to Lori's abdomen- and spent about two months at the prison. "Yeah, sometime in October sounds 'bout right."

"My birthday was in August; so that makes me twenty-one."

"Younger than Maggie but older than Beth," Daryl commented. He was trying to keep his promise to Rick to find out some information from the girl, and he pushed himself to be social.

"Guessed as much."

They continued hiking through the underbrush, stopping every once in awhile to let a lone walker pass.

Finally, Daryl asked another question. "Ya mentioned your uncle before; did ya loose him?"

Charlie was silent for a moment. "Yes. I... lost everyone."

Daryl wanted to ask her to continue but wasn't sure how. He needed to know if she was like Shane; killing people to save herself.

"Did ya have ta, ya know, kill anyone?"

Charlie stared evenly at him. "I was with my parents when the outbreak took my town. I managed to get out."

Daryl crouched down to study the tracks. Charlie squatted down next to him, looking for the same patterns he was. "Ya didn't answer my question. Did ya have ta kill anyone?"

Charlie stood up again. "Yes," she said quietly. "But they were bit."

Daryl stood up, too. Nodding, he continued on.

"We're gettin' close."

"How can you tell?" Charlie whispered.

"Tracks are fresh." He rolled his eyes. "Got a brain in there, huh?"

Charlie snorted, earning a pointed look from Daryl, who brought a finger to his lips. He scanned the clearing in front of them, then pointed at a fallen log. Charlie looked to where he was pointing and saw a large, brown rabbit sitting in the long grass, chewing on some stems. Daryl stooped low and took a small step forward, and the rabbit's nose twitched; it froze mid-chew and turned its ears out. Daryl carefully loaded a bolt in place and took aim. Charlie watched silently as he released the bolt. It flew stealthily through the air and hit its mark; it went through both eyes on the rabbits head, pinning the dead animal to the tree behind it.

"Mmm, dinner," Daryl licked his lips, walking over to the rabbit, retrieving his bolt and stringing the rabbit to a rope hanging over his shoulder. "Tonight I'll teach'ya how ta skin it an' everything," he said, smirking up at Charlie. She grimaced and they continued walking through the forest, peering at the ground for more promising tracks.

"So, Charlie, are we the first group ta take ya in?"

Charlie shook her head. She adjusted her backpack and climbed around a fallen tree. She did not like talking about herself, especially to strangers. But, she supposed that if she showed some trust, she'd be more likely to stay and help them take out The Governor.

Daryl was about to press her for more information when she interrupted.

"Are you guys sure he's still alive?"

Daryl was surprised, not expecting the question. "Who-?"

"The Governor."

Daryl shifted his crossbow in his arms, stepping over a ditch. "No reason to think otherwise. An' we might as well be on guard; don' wanna be taken by surprise."

Charlie nodded.

Daryl didn't know how to continue with his investigation. He had never been good with people, and he had always been fine with knowing the least about others as possible. But he made a promise, and Dixon's keep their promises. Mostly.

Daryl let out a frustrated sigh. Charlie looked over at him questioningly, but he just waved her away. He looked up and studied the trees.

Charlie didn't know what was wrong with the man beside her, but she didn't mind. She wasn't particularly good with conversations, and mostly just stuck to small talk. Back when everything was normal, she mostly just made polite conversation, and told white lies to avoid unnecessary questions.

Charlie watched as Daryl aimed his crossbow into the trees. He let his bolt fly and a squirrel fell out of the branches, the shaft in its head. He walked over and picked it up, securing it next to the rabbit.

Charlie looked up at the sky. From what she could see through the overhead leaves, the sun was arched right over head. She guessed it was about noon. She took out her water bottle from her backpack and took a sip. She sighed as the cool water touched her lips, and felt it flow down her throat into her chest. She shivered slightly and replaced the bottle back in her pack.

They continued on, Daryl unsure of how to continue with his investigation, occasionally opening his mouth before closing it abruptly.

Eventually they settled into a comfortable silence, studying the ground and the trees for small animals or tracks. They journeyed deeper and deeper into the forest.

* * *

The sun was setting when Daryl finally continued with his interrogation. They had passed a small town about four miles back, and seeing the remains of civilization prompted him to proceed with his questions.

"So, Charlie, what happened ta this other group o' yours?" he finally asked.

"Herd," she murmured. "We were out on open road, didn't have nowhere to hide."

"How'd ya get away?" Daryl asked, genuinely intrigued.

Charlie pursed her lips. "Fought my way out. There was a... dog in the group. He was shorter than the walkers, so they didn't seem to notice him at first. While they were tearing into my... group, I slashed a walker, let his guts fall on me, and then I followed the dog. Got down and crawled, so I was low, just like him. The walkers mostly ignored me, until I got down to the last wave. Some noticed the dog, and just like that, there was a feeding frenzy right in front of me. They were all distracted, sure, but I was caged in on all sides. Was no way for me to get out. Didn't have my bat then, but I did have a gun. I'd never used a gun before, only seen 'em in the movies. It was empty, though; the guy who'd handed it to me said he'd reload it later. But that was when the herd came, and we got separated.

"So I hit the nearest walker with it in the head. Dropped like a fly. But some of the others noticed, and they came after me. By then, most of the walkers were either chewing on the dog or back where the group was screaming and dying. So there were only 'bout ten or so chasing after me. Well, the path in front of me was clear, so I made a run for it. Those things are damn fast when they want to be, though. Stupid fuckers. Anyway, they chased me down the road; it was just fields on either side of it. And that was when I saw that the next field over was filled with overgrown corn. I ran in there and managed to lose 'em. Luckily there weren't any others in the field already. Made it out of the corn and there was the sweet forest. That was a couple days before I found those National Guard guys."

Daryl was amazed. Sure, back at Hershel's farm they had tried to fight the walkers, but there were just so many. He had never thought that anyone could fight their way out, especially with just a knife and an empty gun. This girl was already getting more respect in Daryl's mind than he thought she would. She was certainly tougher than he first thought, and most of it seemed to be because she was so determined to live. She could have just given up on that road, but she thought hard of how to live because she was resolved to live. Daryl realized that that's all you could be if you were still living in this world; resolved to live. Everyone else was dead because they weren't _strong_ enough, they weren't _determined_ enough to keep living.

They continued on in an uneasy silence. Charlie was opening her mouth to say something to Daryl when they heard it- and they both immediately ducked down into the undergrowth, neither breathing.

Daryl scanned the woods alertly, turning his head to locate the source of the sound. Charlie strained her ears to identify the noise- was that...?

_No_, Charlie thought, _it couldn't be... could it?_

"Church organ," Daryl mouthed, and Charlie nodded, eyes wide. Daryl pointed to the east, to their right; angled slightly in the direction they were heading in. Daryl looked back at Charlie and raised his eyebrows, asking silently whether they should investigate or continue on.

Charlie nodded grimly and they stalked silently through the woods in the direction Daryl had pointed. Daryl had his crossbow ready and loaded, aimed in front of him. Charlie had her knife out in one hand, her other gripping the handle of her bat, ready to pull it out. They stooped low and approached the noise, Charlie listening to it, opening her ears to it.

It certainly sounded like an organ, and it echoed in the dimming light of the woods. The melody was easily recognized as a classic southern harmony, though the player had put an eery spin on it. The chords created a haunting church melody, sending shivers down Charlie's spine. Daryl sent her an uneasy glance as they slowly creeped forward.

"What the hell?" Daryl whispered.

They had entered a clearing in the woods, a wide clearing, where a massive cathedral stood. It towered over the trees menacingly, casting long shadows in the setting sun. There was a dusty, littered road that curved out of sight, connected to a parking lot in front of the cathedral. There were few cars parked carelessly there, including an old-fashioned hearse. The end of the world had taken its toll on the mighty building; its many stained glass windows were filthy and cobwebbed. It's once-grand double doors had rusted at the hinges, the paint peeling off and one of the handles missing, both doors slightly ajar. It's towering turrets had crumbled, chunks of stone lying hazardly on the overgrown lawn. It's once intricately carved walls were corroded and dull. Carved-out figures leered down at the two humans, once decorative angels now menacing demons in the fading light. The whole cathedral had a grim and ghostly demeanor, and Charlie couldn't help but think of old-fashioned horror movies, with the haunted music and run-down appearance.

The strange organ continued to play, and Charlie hissed quietly in warning as two walkers limped slowly out of the trees near the road. Both living humans pressed themselves lower to the ground, and watched as the walkers dragged themselves across the clearing. They stared as the two lumbered through the great double doors, disappearing into the gloom beyond.

The organ ended its song, and began with a new hymn; a slow tempo version of what Charlie recognized as "The Battle Hymn of Republic", and it was in a scale that made the hair on the back of Charlie's neck stand up.

"Never thought that song could be played slow," Daryl whispered to her.

"How do you know it?" Charlie hissed back, surprised.

"My ma used ta drag us out to church every Sunday before she died," he whispered grimly. Charlie didn't bother asking who the "us" was.

"Well, whoever," she paused, "_whatever_ is in there playing that is sure pulling it off."

"Gives me chills, though," Daryl winced. "Shush up," he nodded as three more walkers came stumbling out of the woods, shuffling awkwardly towards the open doors.

"What should we do?" Charlie whispered. "Should we go back?"

Daryl adjusted his crossbow in his hand, twisting his torso in the long grass to look back at the forest. They were at the tree line, lying in the grass. "Shit, shit, shit; get down!" he hissed, pressing Charlie's head back into the dirt. She stilled her breath, waiting.

She strained her ears; over the echoing organ she could make out ragged breathing and grass parting. She turned her head slightly; two more walkers were winding slowly through the trees behind them. One was dragging its ankle awkwardly; she grimaced when she saw the splintered bone sticking out from its bent-back foot. Daryl shifted slightly next to her, but the walkers ignored them as they lumbered past, totally focused on the eerie music. Once the two corpses had shuffled through the doors, Daryl slowly got up to his knees.

"I think we should leave, _now_," he breathed.

Charlie sat up, gripping her knife in her hand. She squinted back into the shadowy woods; the light of the day was almost gone. "But where are these walkers coming from; what if there are more in the woods?" Charlie asked softly.

"As long as there's no herds we should be okay," Daryl murmured as they slowly backed up into the forest. But as they re-entered the darkened woods, Daryl stiffened. He turned around, and craned his neck. "Son of a _bitch_!" he snarled under his breath. "Get in a tree, now," he hissed.

She looked around, and after squinting in the gloom for a moment she found a low enough branch to climb onto. She clambered up the limbs until she got into a relatively sturdy position, bracing herself against the trunk and the rough bark of a branch. She looked down; the ground was about fourteen feet below her. In a couple of trees over, she could barely hear Daryl hissing more profanity, before he went completely silent.

The last rays of sun were gone, and the leaves obscured what little light the moon had to offer. But, Charlie strained her eyes, becoming used to the darkness, and used the small filters of moonlight to peer at the ground below her.

Though the organ kept up its loud haunting tune, she could hear the walkers before she could see them. Groans and labored breathing filled the forest around her, and soon the shuffling of feet could be made out. Mismatched figures began shambling along beneath her, moaning and stumbling towards the clearing. Charlie peered out from her tree; she could see the dark outline of the cathedral from here. To her surprise, light now spilled out from the entrance, flickering as members of the undead filtered in through the doors.

She counted silently to one hundred four times over in her head, until finally, the last of the geeks had trickled into the cathedral. She counted to one hundred again, just to be sure, and watched as a few stray walkers passed by. After what felt like hours, she heard the slight thump of Daryl's boots hit the forest floor, and she knew it was alright to come down. She descended quickly and joined Daryl on the ground, crouched behind a bush.

"What the hell is going on?" Charlie whispered.

Daryl shrugged. "Come on, let's go."

"No wait," Charlie said, catching his arm. "Do you think there are people in there?"

Daryl frowned down at her touch, and she immediately let go. "If there are, I don't wanna find out. Do you?"

Charlie looked back at the cathedral. "Even though every alarm in my head is screaming at me to leave, don't you think it's just a little too weird to leave alone?"

Daryl shook his head. "It's a lot weird; all the more reason to leave _now_."

Charlie stared into the darkness. All of her recently developed survival instincts were telling her to leave, pronto, but she had a strange feeling that she couldn't shake.

"What if there are people in there? That many walkers would be hard to deal with, but we haven't heard any screams. What if there are _a lot_ of people in there? Wouldn't they be a threat? Sure, we're miles away from the hospital, but..." Charlie leaned towards Daryl. "Aren't you a little curious?"

Daryl stared down at Charlie's shadowed face. She was dead serious, but the way she said it was a little... off. "No," he said gruffly. "Come on."

"I'm checking it out; if this gets really weird I wanna know. I'd rather know the bad things we could be up against rather than be in the dark. Everything is a potential threat, now," she finished grimly.

Daryl sighed. She had a point there. But... there was still something off about her determination to see the cathedral.

"Okay," he growled, "we check this thing out. But then we haul our asses out o' here."

Charlie nodded, and they started forward towards the mighty building, crouching along in the overgrown grass, the organ still marching along in its haunting song.

* * *

**Next chapter out soon, I promise.**

**-the shadow-light**


	9. Important Notice

Hey, guys. Sorry I broke all my promises about updating. Unfortunately, this story has basically put on hold. I know I should have said this at the start, but this story was sort of a test-run. I was experimenting, and had never exactly planned on where I would go with this.

I have been working on another story, something I hope to go through with to the end. I won't be posting it until I'm a little farther in, so it will be easier for me to keep regular updates. Again, "Living for the Dead" was an experiment, and I now know that posting your only five chapters at the beginning and then trying to update every couple days is difficult when you're new to the whole "updating" system.

I hope that maybe later on I will be able to come back to this story and finish it out, but who knows.

I would like to thank the handful of people who followed this story, and the couple who favored it. Also, to the small amount of people who took time to read this story, however short it may have been. Readers do help, guys. They really do.

Once again, I'm sorry to just cut this short like this. But hopefully, I will make it up to you in a better, more stable, more _reliable_ story.

I meant to post this note earlier, but somehow it didn't post.

-the shadow-light


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